


The Perfect Tree

by IrishWitch58



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Tree Shopping, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:38:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8818909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrishWitch58/pseuds/IrishWitch58
Summary: Steve and Bucky go shopping for a tree. They encounter something alien. They share because they're just good that way.





	

“Tell me again why we are driving to New Jersey, Steve.” Disgruntled and with his flesh hand wrapped around a paper cup now half full of hot chocolate Bucky groused in the passenger seat. “It's not like we couldn't have done this in town.”  
Steve just smiled and tapped his finger on steering wheel in time to the holiday music on the radio. “I want a really special, really nice tree and Clint says this guy has some of the best around. The White House got their tree there a couple of years ago.” Steve picked up his own cup from the console and sipped without taking his eyes off the road. “Figure if it's good enough for the President, it has to be good.”  
“Still say we could have gotten one closer to home.” Bucky was still not happy about being dragged out of bed at 0 dark 30 to bundle up in his warmest coat and scarf, although the fresh doughnuts had been a nice touch. He wondered if they might still have one of the iced ones with the green and red sprinkles left. He dug into the second box, the first long gone, and perused the contents as Steve maneuvered around a truck and back into the lane and examined the exit signs. “There it is.” He took the appropriate ramp and discovered the tree farm had provided signs from the exit to lead visitors right in.  
Bucky quickly grabbed just one more doughnut and finished his drink and followed Steve who was halfway across the parking lot to the office. He was inelegantly stuffing the last half of the doughnut into his mouth as Steve was greeted by a man in a sweatshirt, down vest and a truck company ball cap. “What size tree did you have in mind?” he asked.  
“Maybe 10 or 12 feet,” Steve responded. “I'm more interested in the balance than the height. I want it really full.”  
The man turned to the woman behind the desk. “I'm gonna show these fellas to the right section. Give a shout if you need me.” He gestured at the walkie talkie he had tucked in a pocket. He grabbed a saw and a large wagon and a roll of cord and waved for them to follow. “Come this way. Think I have just what you want.” He continued talking as he led them down between rows of trees. “We raise mostly Douglas firs. People think they make the best appearance.”  
As they followed, Steve noticed other people wandering, pulling along wagons like the one with them. “You don't do this for every customer, do you?”  
Their guide grinned, removed his hat and scratched his head. “Got me there. I recognized you pretty easy and wanted to meet you.” He extended a hand. “I'm John Wyckoff. I own the place.”  
Steve shook his hand and Bucky stepped up to be polite. He was actually liking the crisp air and the smell of the trees. “James Barnes,” he offered quietly. He was still mildly uncomfortable meeting strangers.  
John smiled. “Thought so. Pleasure to have you both here.” He gestured at a tree at the end of the row. “Thought this one might be the right one.”  
The indicated tree was deep green and boasted full branches and had a lovely rounded shape at the base. Steve circled it and eyed it up and down then walked a short distance away and got a different perspective on it. He glanced at Bucky and grinned. Bucky nodded, because whatever pleased Steve was just fine with him. “This is perfect, John. Absolutely beautiful.”  
John indicated the saw. “Just get it cut and bring it up to the office. Discount for vets too.” Steve set to work with the saw and Bucky maneuvered the cart closer. He looked off to the next aisle as a high pitched exclamation caught his attention. He walked closer and stared. He blinked at the apparition and shook his head.  
“Steve, you gotta see this.”  
“Little busy right now, Buck.” He worked the saw quickly, bracing his hand against the trunk and shoving to make it lean as the cut widened.  
“You really need to see this though. I can't even...” His voice trailed off as he looked further up the next row.  
Their chosen tree finally resting on the ground, Steve walked over and looked where Bucky was pointing. He began to laugh. “Those can't be real!”  
John joined them and grinned. “They're real all right. Big sellers.” He waved proudly. “Blue, purple, pink and silver. Oh, and we just added red. Spray 'em with a latex, nonflammable paint. Pretty colors and they still smell like a tree.”  
Bucky grinned like a shark. “Red you say?”  
“Right over there,” John answered cheerily, pointing.  
They all walked over another row and there were about half a dozen very symmetrical bright red fir trees. Bucky clapped his hands together and chuckled. “Steve, we have to, seriously. Can you just see his face?”  
It took a second for him to get it then he smiled, an evil expression that the general public would have had a hard time reconciling with Captain America's wholesome image. “Yeah, Buck, I see it. Gold garland, little Iron Man suits, bright flashing lights.” He pointed to the largest tree in the group. “We want that one too, John.”

**Author's Note:**

> So my lovely boyfriend showed me actual pictures of these weird ass trees colored all sorts of things other than green. They apparently spray them with a fireproof latex paint. Yes Wyckoff tree farm is a real place and they provided a tree to the White House in 2013. And yes I should be working on my other story. I blame my darling man for all distractions.


End file.
